


the best of times, the worst of crimes

by codenametargeter



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Black Eagles Felix, Crimson Flower Route, Gen, Post-Timeskip, because writing fic is for trying to process emotions and making them worse instead, post-Lady of Deceit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter
Summary: Felix has never regretted his decision to join the Black Eagles House back at the Officers Academy. But Arianrhod brings him face to face with the reality of what he's done.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	the best of times, the worst of crimes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even done playing through the Crimson Flower route but here I am writing fic for it anyways even though I said I wasn't going to when I finished Chapter 16: Lady of Deceit. That was last night. Like... less than 24 hours ago.
> 
> Okay off to go play the next chapter and probably cry some more.

“Are you being okay?” Petra asks him. 

“I’m fine,” Felix says, shoulders tensing as he looks anywhere but at the body at his feet. There’s blood. A lot of blood. He flicks his sword away, watching the droplets fly off and stain the cobblestones where they land. 

She frowns. “If you are needing to talk…”

“We have a job to do.” And it’s true. They do. They always do in battle. The Professor always sends them out together as the tip of the spear that is the Black Eagle Strike Force. Together, they can move quickly and deadly across a battlefield, making it easier for those who follow them. The start of their attack on Arianrhod has been no different even if it had been multi-pronged. He and Petra had pushed forward into the city and Duke Rodrigue Fraldarius had been there to meet them. And Felix had done his duty. 

_(He feels certain in his choices but he’ll never get their final words out of his head. What father says those? What sort of son does this? What sort of person has he become?)_

Petra hasn’t moved yet so Felix scowls at her. “Let’s go. Edelgard and the Professor’s plan doesn’t work unless we advance faster than this.” 

Thankfully, she nods and says nothing else and they start fighting their way through the city again. Forward, forward. Always forward. Forward lies something he can fight. Backwards are looks he doesn’t want to even think about. 

It works. Or at least it does until Ingrid comes soaring down out of the sky on her pegasus looking every inch the knight she always yearned to be. Even though it’s been five years and she wears her hair differently, she looks much the same or so he thinks until she gets closer and the difference is painfully clear. He has no option but to see the anger, disappointment, and grief in her eyes. 

“Felix, why?” Ingrid asks him, voice cracking with emotion. In that moment, he knows that she saw. “How could you?” 

He doesn’t respond and only flicks his gaze sideways to make sure Petra has the advancing soldiers to their left in hand which of course she does. 

He shifts into a more defensive stance but it does nothing to guard him when she says, “You’ve betrayed His Majesty, Glenn, and Lord Rodrigue! You’ve betrayed everyone!” 

How can you betray a boar? Or a corpse? Or a— “You can’t possibly understand,” Felix spits out. Other words come out of his mouth but he’s hardly aware of what they are. This is a fight he cannot afford to lose but also one he wishes he didn’t have to win. With her lance and mounted on a pegasus, Ingrid has reach and therefore the advantage but Felix has something now she’s never seen him yield: magic. And speed but he’s always been fast. He doesn’t wait for whatever her response is. He must strike first. He does. Swift and true.

And so Ingrid Galatea dies at his feet, a true knight. Just the sort of person she always wanted to be. Just like Glenn.

This time, he makes the mistake of looking over his shoulder and meeting Mercedes’s eyes and seeing the shock in them. Seemingly unconsciously, she takes a step towards Ingrid’s body, glowing hand extended even though it’s clearly already too late. “Felix,” she says, the disappointment radiating from her. She kneels anyways but the soft glow does nothing. 

“You’re here too,” he snarls. “You don’t get to judge me.” 

Petra approaches them, her sword now also dripping with blood. A part of him feels guilty about how many enemy soldiers he’s left her to deal with but clearly she’s handled it. From somewhere, she produces a small vial. “Are you needing?” she asks, extending the vulnerary towards him. Felix shakes his head and she shrugs and drains it herself. Petra looks down and he steels himself for what he knows must be the next question but she doesn’t say anything and simply puts one hand on her hip. Somehow though, he gets the feeling her question before wasn’t really about the vulnerary. 

Caspar comes running up to them and rests his axe on his shoulder. “Petra, Felix, Mercedes! Come on! Edelgard needs us!” He looks down at the body at Felix’s feet but doesn’t say anything and there’s no sign of recognition. It’s a relief to see nothing.

As they race after Caspar towards the plaza, it’s immediately obvious what Edelgard and the Professor need of them. These creatures are unlike anything he’s ever seen which makes them a challenge. Despite everything, Felix smiles just a little. He can lose himself in battle again and he’s grateful for it. He knows how to fight. It’s a wave he rides until he no longer can because there is no one left to fight. Everyone who would oppose them is dead. The Empire has won. 

With no one left to fight, he helps with the clean up but avoids the parts of the city where he fought. It’s hard work but it’s exactly what he wants right now. If he’s tired, he can’t think and the last thing Felix wants is to lose himself in his thoughts. He also avoids as many people who might profess to even somewhat care about him because he doesn’t want to deal with their well-meaning but prying questions.

But he can’t avoid them forever. 

They don’t stay in the city overnight and instead the Black Eagle Strike Force starts to make their way back towards the monastery. Once they’ve set up camp that night just back from the road, Dorothea approaches him where he stands at the very edge of camp, her features schooled into an expression of sympathy. “Felix,” she starts to say. 

He shakes his head curtly and says, “Don’t,” so sharply that it could slice through the air between them. Nothing changes about her expression which just makes it worse. He looks away and tries again, more softly this time. “Please don’t.” 

For a few moments, she doesn’t say anything but then she quietly murmurs, “Of course.” It’s the quiet press of her hand against his shoulder for the briefest of seconds before it’s gone as she walks away that leaves him so close to shattering into a thousand pieces until he digs his fingernails into his palms and the pain makes him whole again. Or at least it’s what he tells himself.

He’s fine. 

_(He’s not fine.)_

Felix Hugo Fraldarius made his choice and he’s fine. To survive, he has to be. There are no choices left. 


End file.
